Killing Her


Sometimes I dream she’s dead,

Blood flowing from her head,

I wish I did it,

One thrash head hit,

Strung from a noose,

Tied so tight, she’d never get loose,

A smothering pillow over he head,

Listening to her last breath, to be sure she was dead,

Strong pills slipped into a drink,

Worries about me she’d never think,

Shiny knife, going into her back,

Number of times I thought of this, I’d lost track,

Oh how sweet the blood on my hands,

Her blond hair soaking up blood, every little strand,

Blame on me? No one would dare,

I’d kill her so fast, no one would care.


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